


Five Slices of Grief

by DancingLunarWolves



Category: Zootopia (2016)
Genre: Angst, Drama, F/M, Five Stages of Grief, Metaphors, Not What It Looks Like, analogies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-06
Updated: 2016-12-04
Packaged: 2018-08-29 08:55:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 15,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8483245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DancingLunarWolves/pseuds/DancingLunarWolves
Summary: How does one cope with grief? Do they deny what happened? Is their anger going to consume them? Will they bargain with the unknown? Are they full of depression? Can they accept the truth? Join Nick Wilde as he copes with his life as it is. Metaphors and analogies, nothing is as it seems.





	1. Denial

Hey all, DLW here, and I thought it was about high time for something new and interesting. A take on the five stages of grief, more info at the bottom. Thank you to all my readers follows, fav's and reviews and for your feedback it makes writing all the more fun. Disclaimer: Zootopia and its characters are copyright Disney. (I own none of the characters in the story aside from the O/C's.).

* * *

Denial

* * *

'It _didn't_ happen.' The renard thought, staring intently at the green wallpaper that ran to the ceiling. Its subtle olive tint, a complement to his own green irises, and a stark contrast to his red and cream fur. Even the decorative paw print pattern that scattered every which way - up and down, to and fro in a lighter tone - and the small wall of furnished brick were a testament to how perfect this place matched with him. It was where he belonged, where he was always welcome; his home and safe-haven.

With an appreciative smile, he gently nuzzled his head into the pillow and willed his eyes shut. Behind closed lids, all was well for Nicholas Wilde. The steady and even rise and fall of his chest made it easy for him to know that nothing had happened, he was completely happy. The world - or at least his world - was... perfect. He lacked nothing, he had everything right where he wanted it. Even for himself, the apartment was everything he had hoped for and more.

It was a cozy little alcove in the heart of Downtown Zootopia. It was neither larger than life or smaller than his goals. The little radiator beside him provided him with ample warmth and brought a welcoming grin to his wearied muzzle. The floor was as smooth and noiseless as his neighbors. There was a desk just opposite him that carried little 'Nick' knacks and various notes of times past and present. Even the microwave he had was more than enough to get him through most days. It was an easy going life, the life he wanted since the beginning.

He let loose a contented sigh for the about the umpteenth time that morning, or was it evening? Night maybe? It didn't truly matter to him at what time it was, he was happy to be where he was there and now. Nary a glimmer of the light that cascaded through the window bothered him in the least, be it silver or gold, shining or dim. Either way, he was too relaxed at the tranquility of his solitude to consider.

Though many - friend and family - had supported him in all of his twists and turns through life, he could not have been happier; his life was great, everything organized and falling in place neatly. A casual job, he could afford what he wanted, he could go anywhere he needed, he had the perfect partner-

As if pained and haunted by some phantom enigma or memory, the fox weakly opened his eyes.

Though immediately met with the scarlet fur of his muzzle and the evergreen wall, so much colour flooded his vision; vibrant hues and striking undertones, a picturesque collage of pastels under one roof that could make any artists dream become a vision in an instant. A simple glimpse of the brilliant silver-grey of the pillow and strip of white on the blanket he slumbered upon brought about vivid images of the best parts of his peculiar life.

A warm smile curled on his muzzle, a soft chuckle escaped him. His head tilted to soak in more of vast riches of his environment, peaceful and tranquil as his rest. The instant he so happily did so, he regretted it. His genuine smile was torn away, and shivers - despite the warmth of the room - ran circuits across his spine.

For the moment that one colour had been caught in the corner of his eye, everything seemed to stop. The gears that so casually turned in his mind about all pleasantries in life began rewinding to foreign memories. His focus never wavered from the distant apparel, forever embedded in his mind, in his senses, in his life; the solid scheme of the wheel that had changed him forever-

- _Blue_.

His mind raced as the room began to become dark, shadows began to encroach upon his abode. Although, it was day right? Or was it night? Then again... how were there shadows at all? How could there be anything darkened where he was if everything was perfect? Nothing happened. Everything was fine... wasn't it?

' _Nick, don't_...' He heard, somewhere in the recesses of his mind. His ears perked up as to hone in on the voice, but its holder was nowhere to be seen.

The fox didn't know how long he had stared at the suit saluting somberly on the lonely hanger. He didn't realize he had begun to sit up until a sharp pain in his ankle forced him to lurch forward and soothe it, a reminder of troubles. Grasping at a thin sheet of gauze that comforted him, he claws gently ruffled against the material. Even now as he focused solely on his dilemma of an injury, more of that colour entered his field of view-

- _Blue_.

It had been the scheme of the blanket he rested on. Each fiber made him tremble to his core. His memories began to come back at him at full force.

The joy he felt unbidden and unbroken as the brightest smile he had ever known sat across from him, then shouting amidst what was once a peaceful day. A clang of metal, labored breaths and blank stares. Flashes of red and the stain on his shirt and paws.

A sharp breath was forced out of him, bringing him back to his senses. He shook himself of the chill that crept upon him, accidentally taking in more of the cramped space around him. For just across the way, next to the small table, sat a dull grey set of crutches.

' _I'm right here with you_ -' The voice rang out, formless as it was faint.

He swallowed lightly, leaning back and idly scratching at his itching ankle. Was it all a dream? How could it have happened? It was impossible... wasn't it? Zootopia was a utopia, and utopia _meant_ Paradise!

Laying his head on the pillow once more - if only for a few minutes - he sighed. He'd have more time to think later when he fully stirred. 'No, I'm fine,' he thought, shifting into a more comforting position on the bed. Had it not been for the slightest of itches in his leg, everything would be perfect. "Everything's...fine."

* * *

Hello there, you've reached the end notes! I hope you're all enjoying this story, and I wonder if anyone gets the analogies and metaphores with only four chapters remaining. I can't give any spoilers, but would love feedback.

Nick n' Finnick, will be updated soon (in the next week or so), Predation soon afer and also ZPD: Zootopia Poltergeist Detainment (so much for Halloween theme). And I'm terribly sorry for anyone that was looking forward to updates to these, but I had this and another story to work on. And I hope you get a chance to read this and the other stories at your leisure. All can be found here as well:

fanfiction:  
~dancinglunarwolves

deviantart:  
dancinglunarwolves

archiveofourown:  
users/DancingLunarWolves/works

If you liked this story and have time please post a review, and if you would like to keep up with the story please fav or follow. Questions, comments, concerns, feel free to message me about anything... More to come soon. If you'd like updates, please check the profile page and or message me.

Till Next Time

-DLW


	2. Anger

Hey all, DLW here. And we're back with a take on the five stages of grief, more info at the bottom. Thank you to all my readers follows, fav's and reviews and for your feedback it makes writing all the more fun. Disclaimer: Zootopia and its characters are copyright Disney. (I own none of the characters in the story aside from the O/C's.).

* * *

Anger

* * *

 _He_ earned that seat, and _they_ all knew it.

He was the one with the crutches, couldn't they all see that? His snout curled on itself. Of course they could, there wasn't a blind mammal aboard... Or was there? A quick scan of the passengers brought light to the situation for the fox as there was indeed a young goat sitting in the front with shades and a cane... _and_ reading a newspaper. So no, definitely no blind mammals; or were they all just blind to courtesy? He was red, he was the perfect colour to see!

He shook his head, releasing a baited breath he had held in unknowingly.

Well...even if there wasn't, he had his aviators on just incase he needed to feign or put emphasis on his injuries. That seat was rightfully reserved for _him_ , why couldn't they just follow simple rules. If they all could listen, couldn't they also hear his small grunts and huffs of pain and anguish? He had already missed his stop(s) that would have best befitted his stroll on his way back. Not one mammal decided it good to either let him depart first or ping the almost savage driver in front that stopping was a good idea. They probably didn't hear anyways.

The roar of voices filled the small cabin with idle public chatter. Every which-way you turn, mammals were talking amongst themselves: the casual hello, misplaced gossip, small talk, banter, or business proposal. No two muzzles or mugs were closed at the same time, much to the disappointment of the sole fox who refused to speak a peep.

Nick sneered for the hundredth time since he set foot-pad on the bus. He had no clue as to why he didn't just walk back. It would have been much easier than having to take a cramped use of public transportation to get to his destination. As he reflected upon his motives for doing so, the dull ache in his leg reminded him immediately of why he chose the masochistic route he did: it was faster than hobbling back, and more direct than the train.

The itch had begun earlier and, as of now, really had bothered him. Just short of lunging down and tearing at the extremity, he would have to reserve himself to just scratch it against his working leg for now.

Cursing his luck that he didn't have his phone with him at the time to just call for help getting back - not that he would ever admit needing assistance even in a full body cast - he bit back a bark of anger that he knew he's been holding since he boarded the vehicle. It was no easy feat to hop up the few stairs as a small injured mammal, and it was worse when the able-bodied masses refused to even try to relinquish the closer seats to him. It was _their_ faults that they were here anyway. He paid his dues (even taxes), he protected the city countless times - but at what cost?

Through clenched teeth, the answer arose, " _The joys of being a fox_."

If the sun were to explode - or the moon; whatever shimmering ball that loomed over the city was gracing them - he'd be just fine with that. Maybe he could become some Sat-Am villain for the day and accomplish the feat as some convoluted plan to take over the worlds resources. Not that he even needed it, he just wanted things to go his way for once. That's exactly how this day was not going so far. Or was it afternoon? Evening? Who cared, he couldn't be bothered with the time of day, it was too stressful.

Nick had been brooding all throughout the time that he had boarded the bus. His scowl permanently affixed had brought distasteful looks from the other passengers - predator and prey alike - from time to time; he paid them no heed, though, he was too upset to even try. Then again, there was that one zebra who kept glancing at him like he stole something. Thought the thought was tempting to try, he had half a mind to say something, or steal something. However, just as his lips were pursed to mumble, another sharp turn forced him to nearly bite his tongue and catch his balance.

Thankfully, a gruff looking rhino was there to lean against, if only for a moment. Though, the reply of "Watch it, Fox!" was unnecessary. Still, he kept to himself. His grip tightening on the foam of his crutches, his teeth on the cusp of barring.

Re-repositioning himself against the cold and unfeeling railing near the back set of stairs, he wrenched his eyes shut and huffed in adamant frustration. Barely able to stand on one foot was troublesome to start with, but doing so while moving was a completely different monster entirely. Such was the fate of Nicholas Wilde, currently.

The rocking bus should have been calming and soothing, but upon every turn and every passenger moving about, all it did was upset him more and more; nobody should have to endure what he was going through. Sane or insane, the whole ordeal was torturous.

Again and again, he felt himself sliding; only able to brace with one foot and attempt to catch himself with one paw. It was a nightmare, only it was day. Or was it night? He had sunglasses on, either way, he couldn't tell.

Yet another sharp turn made him brace himself from falling forward, his teeth finally chattering. If that driver didn't stop with the knee-jerking breaks for no reason, he would absolutely commandeer the vehicle; badge or not, nothing would stop him. Well... nothing aside from the officers that would swarm him when they arrived, and the passengers that could try - and would succeed - when they saw how crazy fox drove them. He could try to fend them off with aluminum, teeth, claws, and insults. Still, though, his half-baked driving would seem like a delicate tour compared to the wolverine's reckless habits. How he wasn't cited or pulled over was beyond him.

Thankfully, though, he heard a sound overhead, "Arriving at 'Grass Street'."

Knowing full well that he was far away from where he wanted to be, he flicked his ears and sighed. At least the bus was somewhere relatively well placed to where he could walk somewhere and actually 'maybe' pick up pain meds. Not that he cared to need them.

Relieved that the momentum was slowing, Nick huffed in impatient anxiety for it to stop with ease. However, it was again not his day as the bus came to a screeching halt and shifting him forward muzzle first into the railing opposite him. The renard and his cargo of crutches tumbled down the few steps that welcomed them to the doorway, thankfully the closed door stopped him from propelling any further down - at least until it opened; then he was a mess of red and grey on the warm pavement. On the bright side, which was still obscured by shades his tail didn't get stuck on the door - this time.

Immediately feeling the sharp pain return to his leg, he placed a paw there and shook himself. "I'm Fine!" He yelled to nobody in particular, nobody was even trying to reach out a paw or hoof to aid him. Just the busy bodies of the city looking down or across at a fox that fell out of a bus. It was nothing new.

Finally fed up and hearing the bus move on with its other passengers either egressing or boarding the death trap of metal and crazed conductor, Nick clicked his teeth and reached for his fallen crutches. He barely managed to prop himself up, nearly feeling the other leg need medical attention from the fall. Through sheer force of will, the fox stood as proudly as a small mammal could and took in the surroundings.

He had, of course, known every part of Zootopia. Well most, at least the parts that mattered anyways. A small smirk worked its way across his muzzle as Grass Street was one that he was very familiar with because he-

-the smirk all but died the moment he remembered the street. He had heard that voice, her voice calling him again 'You'll be okay...'

Taking in more and more of the relatively plain crossway and concrete mess of buildings and shops, he fully recognized where he was. His pain and anguish had before blinded him as to why he shouldn't be here, and of course, what was across the street from him.

' _Here? Of all places? Here?_ ' He muttered, not truly wanting to look behind him, but memories danced across his eyes that mocked him incessantly.

In the dead of night, or day, maybe noon or twilight, there was a row of shops he was well acquainted with. It was different now, fairly slow as he peered on. Various mammals enjoying themselves, casually strolling and taking their time at restaurants and gift shops alike. He stood in admonishment at how the difference a little time could make, and how nothing was like it was back then.

He could see it now: the running, the screaming. Chase. Chase! _CHASE_!'

His eyes plaintively narrowed: the yelling, the panic. Pain. Pain! _PAIN_!

His teeth on the cusp of shattering: colours in chaos. Grey. Red! _BLUE_!

He shuddered at the thought, composing himself. A smile appeared before him. ' _You've got to move on. You'll be fine. Please stay-_ '

His paw shook as he heard the others. The would be's the has been's... The mockers. ' _You're blowing it out of proportion. You'll get another one. Serves you right-_ '

Nick's eyes shot open at the scene before him. How could they treat this like nothing happened? All the mammals that passed by had no inkling of a clue. No idea of what it was like. They couldn't fathom what he lost. All because of that one colour.

A deep sigh left him. How long had it been since then? Days? Nights? Months? Time didn't seem to matter anymore; not that it mattered behind his aviators.

He took a sharp turn, pivoting back to his previous destination. He couldn't stay there forever, not when all of them were guilty of the crime. Though he was red, they should all be charged and painted. Couldn't they see _he_ was the only one hurt from the whole ordeal? The bus didn't help, nothing ever did.

He should have just walked back to begin with.

* * *

Hello there, you've reached the end notes! I hope you're all enjoying this story. Only three chapters to go with metaphors galore.

More stuff is coming up and I'm working on a lot. Stay tuned.

And I hope you get a chance to read this and the other stories at your leisure. All can be found here as well:

fanfiction:  
~dancinglunarwolves

deviantart:  
dancinglunarwolves

archiveofourown:  
users/DancingLunarWolves/works

If you liked this story and have time please post a review, and if you would like to keep up with the story please fav or follow. Questions, comments, concerns, feel free to message me about anything... More to come soon. If you'd like updates, please check the profile page and or message me.

Till Next Time

-DLW


	3. Bargaining

Hey all, DLW here. And we're back with a take on the five stages of grief. Can you spot the pop culture/movie references? More info at the bottom. Thank you to all my readers follows, fav's and reviews and for your feedback it makes writing all the more fun. Disclaimer: Zootopia and its characters are copyright Disney. (I own none of the characters in the story aside from the O/C's.).

Also:

DSLeo: Thanks for the review. I did know that, but it's more of a mockery in more ways than one. Ironically the _Zoo_ part of Zootopia is a complete contradiction to what the city's supposed to mean and represent. I wonder if that's why it's called _Zootropolis_ in some other releases.

TortillasOrBust: There's plenty more, thanks for reading XD

* * *

Bargaining

* * *

He had been hobbling along for a while - as best as he could, given his condition - with a perplexed look about him. His usual go to demeanor - that smug and self-confident look with a touch of blatant arrogance and speck of compassion - had long since faded into a grimace of twitching frowns and erratic huffs. Despite his best attempts at figuring out what his next course of action was, Nick had no choice but to move forward; being unable to contact anyone to so much as have a small chat with was annoying him greatly. He was glad to at least have his glasses on, he couldn't afford to have anyone seeing what his eyes really thought.

Whistling a tune to keep himself occupied and fairly as scarce as possible while pretending things were okay, he breezed by many citizens of the city he had once protected. Though some gave him awkward stares, ranging from a Koala speeding by and a Raccoon who looked as though they had seen better days (or nights maybe, he couldn't tell the time of day), he took it all in the staggered stride he had. At least he didn't have to stare them down. His ' _Don't let them see that they get to you_ ' philosophy worked loads better when you didn't look like you were scrapped off the pavement.

A smile creaked across his muzzle as he thought he might have a pity victory from the possible interaction, though; sympathetic trump card and all. Still, he trekked on.

The small breeze that caressed his fur was soothing, if not at least half bad. Had it not been for the fact that his phone was elsewhere and his leg was killing him - practically dead weight leaving him a target - it would have been a pleasant stroll down Fence Street. Well... at least somewhat less indignant stroll if he were to be honest, which he was. Maybe... Usually... Sometimes?

...He was reformed!

...Yeah, sometimes. Else he could try.

It took him some time to make it down to the far end of Fence Street, a place he had known rather well but usually avoided as it lead into a less than prestigious part of town. _Or_ , as it were, partly prestigious and partly not; transit was no joke around there. He gritted his teeth as he remembered the two streets in question: Pack Street and Flock Street.

Two practically feuding sides of town and both merely meters away from one another. While Pack street - the _pred_ side - looked as a dingy and rundown cesspool for the predator population (while still being leagues above Happy Town thankfully), Flock street - the _prey_ side - was rather well maintained as a mini version of the Meadowlands.

He would have to cross on the side of Pack Street - go figure - due to him being... well... a fox for all intents and purposes. Clearly, however, as he wasn't a pack mammal, the small renard was still at a disadvantage should he ever get caught on the crosswalk. Cunning he may be, but that didn't mean he could easily run with (or against in this case) the wolves or whatever predator caught sight of him.

Though he didn't want to go near either for their well-known gangs, constant rivalries, and less than (or maybe more than) shady dealings when it came to predator and prey splits; it was apparent that he had no choice as the quickest way back would have to be to brave the path before him and scurry on like the fox he was when he came to the intersection ahead.

However, he always thought of the sheer irony of both streets being crossed by a literal and metaphorical divide in the form of Fence Street. He couldn't help but force a wry and yet somehow casual smile for the situation as he would have to ' _straddle the fence_ ' to keep out of danger.

That bright yet exaggerated pull of his lip was interrupted and turned into a flash of teeth and gasp for breath when a loud horn caught him off guard. He hadn't been paying attention to the crosswalk and, for whatever reason, hobbled to his right in order to get away from the sound.

Over the course of the few seconds, the horn threatened him with driver shouting, "Out of the way, Fox!" Nick found it far more comforting and relatively safer to stumble away, rather than tempt fate (and possibly tempt murder 2, or at least hit and run) by not hobbling to the other side, but instead wait on the other side of the street. Thankfully, however, the driver sped by without much more of a display of aggression.

If his leg wasn't already screaming at him before, now it was gnawing at him for not listening as he exerted himself in a fit of panic. So by the time he had crossed to the other side, the itch began its course to teach him a lesson. While in that state of learning, Nick had taken a moment to lean upon a nearby brick wall. Resting his crutches at his side and panting a few times, he pulled hiked his leg towards his awaiting paws; he had no shame to scratch at the gauze in public, they didn't know what he had gone through. He'd return to his walk in a moment, but for now, the itch and the pain were calling him. As soon as his claws raked against the material, both a twinge of pain coursed from his leg and a sigh of relief. His wrenched his eyes shut - though it made no difference as his aviators blocked out the sunlight, or maybe moonlight - as he continued to lightly scratch at his leg. Pain was there, yes, but being able to simply pick at the wound despite being told specifically not to was just-

"-Hey there, friend."

Had he not been set against a wall - red against red - he would have surely keeled over from the startlingly calm voice that somehow carried itself so casually towards him. He immediately flicked his ears towards where he heard the small, yet somehow booming sound, and his whole self turned to the right. A chill ran down his spine as this ' _friend_ ' stared at him.

A white wooled ram - not much taller than him and certainly not puffed up like many others that he had seen over the years - suddenly stood beside him. He wore a long pristine white coat above his wool (if Nick could guess it was a lab coat of sorts), and somehow equally bleached trousers to go along with it. His arms slung around his back as if he were holding something and he rocked lightly on his feet. He had the telltale curled horns of a mammal of his species, but for whatever reason, all Nick could see was the odd smile and the white of his eyes. It was eerie as they were both somehow... listless?

The fox's jaw slack and brow raised, he questioned what a sheep was doing on the wrong side of the street. Only... a simple notion occurred to him; he hoped he was wrong. With only a glance at the nearby street sign and subsequent street, he did indeed confirm his own fears: _he_ had straddled the wrong side of the fence. He was not where he should be at all.

The surrounding buildings were in good shape: not a trashcan was out of place, no boarded up windows, _no_ shady figures (sans sheep), and _certainly_ no predators (sans himself). This was definitely Flock street.

With a gulp of almost sincere guilt and absolute fear, Nick grabbed both crutches under his arms again and forced himself off the wall. If he were to stay on Flock Street - him being a predator - he would undoubtedly (hopefully only) be hospitalized should a gang of prey find him. He took one hop forward before the sheep was merely feet away from him, his heart raced from the sudden move.

A well-known fact about vulpines is that they have very few sweat glands, mainly in their paw-pads, and as such, only get sweaty paws; they pant instead to cool off. So in light of Nick nearly panting bullets, he felt his tight grip on the foam of his crutches begin to fade. He couldn't get away unless he chewed off his own leg first.

Yet, despite this, the ram calmly walked closer until they were now inches away. So the fox did the only thing he could do, fake the best smile he could without making it seem like he was trying to scam him or run for his life. The pitiful state he was in with the sunglasses should be enough. Though... maybe it was too much effort to put out at night... Day maybe?

The ram stopped in reaching distance of him, never veering to either side or wiping the smile off his face; and for a moment, he merely stood there both wordless and unblinking. Raising his brow, Nick didn't know what to make of the strange mammal. Only now could he make out a small name tag reading ' _Seymore_ '. Even from the whiff he took, his scent was odd. It was like that of plants, medicine, and metal all at once.

Upon the first time he blinked, the odd one of a ram asked, "You must be Officer Wilde, right?"

Though Nick often said he knew everybody, it was a defensive exaggeration. Saying something and doing something were two so very different things that in the end it was often less than fifty-percent that both were on par with each other. Never the less, however, Nick shook his head.

Not the honest approach.

He didn't know how anyone knew of him as an officer, or how this ram suddenly knew who he was. Fame or not, it wasn't completely common knowledge. What he did feel, though, was a mounting sense that he needed to run away quickly.

The ram's features refused to change, but he finally pulled his hooves away from his back and waived his right dissuasively. "Nonsense, Officer. We've been expecting you."

The statement couldn't have been more of a warning. How could anyone on Flock Street be expecting a fox?

"Huh?" Was all he managed to whisper.

The ram nodded and pointed to Nick's leg "Yes, well, you've come to the right place to pick out pain medications. That's what you're here for, I assume." Nick traced the rams hoof from his leg back towards a sign that he had now pointed at. "We have lots to choose from and you're always welcome here."

Nick looked on, surprised that it was actually a pharmacy, an RX store named ' _Happy Happy Farmacy - Happiest Pharm on this side of the fence_ '. Something he needed at a time like this. Something that felt oddly like a setup; a wolf in sheep's clothing perhaps? He couldn't smell any hint of canid on him, and besides, they were both on Flock Street. Maybe a sheep in wolf's... no... no... he'd have to be in wolf skin.

Even as he thought that, he watched as several sheep and other prey mammals exited the store and continued down the street with bright smiles on their faces. He managed to get a glimpse of the inside to see row upon row of fully stocked supplies. Maybe it wasn't a setup after all?

He weighed his options - and wallet for that matter - and thought that if he could be in and out in about... ten seconds then he may live to see the light of day and get some cheap pain meds to boot. Inwardly he sighed as he took a step forward.

At his motion, the ram held up a hoof as if to tell him to 'wait'. There was always a catch, wasn't there?

"Oh, before I forget," He began, reaching into his pocket to produce a small yellow container. He hurriedly closed the gap and held it in front of Nick. "It's the best brand we have, no complaints and our customers always come back," He carried on as Nick questioningly took the vial and eyed in disbelief. "Some _never_ leave." The ram chuckled.

Nick paid no heed to the little joke but was curious to the bottle itself. It held an odd logo and decent name along with generic 'pain' med identifier, but only a single pill from what he could tell as he shook it. Thinking that it was a way to keep him outside - the fox that he is - Nick reached for his wallet.

The ram, however, waved his hooves defensively. "Oh no need to worry about price, Officer, it's on the house."

Nick's jaw dropped from the prospect of free medicine. He had never had such a thing before, maybe his pitiful look was paying off. He wondered if he could get half price on the deal.

To his surprise, the ram turned and walked towards the store's entrance, calling him forward. "If you like, you can come inside and see what else we have to offer."

The renard was at a loss for words. Sure he could use the pain meds, but something felt odd about the whole scenario. It was too much like a drug and grab. Or plant and frame. Definitely one of the two. Quickly, he had to come up with some excuse to run while free was still free.

He forced a smug grin. "Sure, sure. Let me just check with the mammal upstairs."

Knowing he'd have to notify the chief, or someone - phone or not - he pretended to reach into his pocket as if to call then and there.

Instead of hearing a snide remark or casual slur, he heard a sharp gasp from the ram. Unknowing to the cause, Nick eyed him carefully as both hooves clasped the sides of the wool on his cheeks.

"You know him?!" The ram shouted shaking as if a phantom were behind Nick somehow.

Nick's response, "Uh..." was a hazy lack of words.

Before he could even form anything else, the ram shouted, "I'll be right back, this is cause to celebrate." Before he disappeared into the store entirely.

Taking the opportunity to escape, Nick turned tail and hobbled again. He didn't know what the interaction meant, but it couldn't be good. He was a good distance to the crosswalk again - as Flock Street _wasn't_ too kind to his kind, and he didn't want to risk being a rug - when he looked over his right to see that the ram hadn't yet returned.

Upon safely reaching the intersection and ensuring no cars were around, Nick sighed and began to limp across. In trying so, however, a sudden weight landed on his left arm, a heaviness he hadn't felt before like it was cemented to the ground.

Looking over his left, he saw the problem and couldn't fathom as to why he hadn't heard or sniffed what was wrong before. Any hope of escaping he had dropped.

A crimson furred vixen - slightly smaller than him, and far skinnier than most he had seen - stood beside him. She wore a deep black dress and hood (if one could call it that) that had several small tears in it, and a small bag hung from her shoulder. Her arms were clasped around his crutches like they were her last hope of tomorrow and she swished her tail uncomfortably against him. As he stared on, Nick caught sight of her piercing blood-red eyes and a devious grin on her muzzle.

"Hey there, _handsome_." She said in a tone almost as a whisper. Nick felt a distinguished fear course through his veins.

He was about to open his big muzzle to retort, but felt himself being pulled, dragged to the side by the girl. With him being in no form to retaliate - being a gentle-mammal he would never dismiss a lady - with only a leg and one crutch, he quickly found that they had crossed the walk and he grimaced at the situation.

Once they were on the other side and he regained his balance, the vixen batted her eyes and asked, "What are _you_ doing on my side of the street?" All while clutching his arm tighter and grinning wider.

He felt his jaws clench at the mention of 'street' and knew two things then. _One_ : with the look of the broken wasteland like feel of the place they stood upon, he had no doubt that they were now on Pack Street. _Two_ : he had to get away... fast!

Thinking of an excuse, he tried to pry her grip off of him to cross the street but stopped as she leaned in a little too close. He felt as though she may just bite him (she looked hungry enough), but he dared not howl for help. Not that he wasn't a wolf, not that he couldn't howl, and certainly not because that would look weak, no. It was out of fear because he would definitely be mugged in seconds.

"So you're that fox cop todd, huh?" The femme fatale pried with a click of her teeth after each word.

Again, his mouth went slack as he heard this. He wondered if he had a sticker on his back that said "Hi, my name is Nicholas Piberius Wilde... I've got money! I can't run... Rob me!"

He grinned a little, showing his fangs and shaking his head no. He wasn't nervous at all, just terrified a little. Or a lot.

A simple joke occurred to him that he couldn't pass off. With as smooth of a voice as he could muster, he asked, "I'm guessing your name is Vix?"

She smiled huffed out her reply, "Even if it was ,it's not the way you'd be spelling it." Her words were like a smooth and stinging mist.

She casually strode in front of him and rubbed her paw up and across his shoulder to which he looked down at only now noticing a gauze wrapped forearm with deep spots in it. "I saw you come out of that sorry excuse for a pharmacy. I just had to rescue you." She added with a pout that sounded more like a threat than an assurance.

He took a deep breath.

Everything about this vixen screamed danger. Not that he was averse to the wild side of living - he did cons and worked for the mafia - but too many red flags went off all at once; one of which included her tail, should you dare to steal it for the flag of your ship.

She leaned back her head to meet his shielded eyes. "The stuff they give you there, pfft." She looked down the street and waved at the pharmacy as if it were fifth rate and last place all in one. Though, she did eye him slowly causing him to keep the breath he was holding. "I know!" She clapped her paws together with glee. "You should try one of my... _herbal_ remedies." Her drawling out the last few words hit a nerve in him he didn't realize he had.

He went numb. This was definitely a drug offer.

Now, he _wasn't_ saying that she had a lab somewhere; that'd be rude and - same species or not - a very hasty assumption. Then again, _he_ wasn't saying that she had a lab somewhere; as a fox, his lips were sealed. He had to draw the line somewhere.

As gracefully as he could, he gently shrugged her off and forced a timid smile. "I think... no?"

The vixen didn't flinch for even a second but instead flicked her ears and tail. Her grin grew. "Aww come on," she pleaded. "It'll make you feel real good."

He went to say another word, but he was stopped when she placed her paws on his muzzle.

"In fact," She began, digging around her purse with her free paw to produce a small yellow container and forcefully shoved it in his paws. "Here, take these pain meds. First hit's free."

He raised both brows and eyed it carefully while still trying to keep an eye on the vixen. The bottle had he same label and warning as the one the sheep gave him, they may have had the same company make them. Curious, however, Nick wondered where - and for that matter also why - a vixen was handing out free pain meds on a street corner.

As he tried to look up to meet her eyes, she pointed towards a rundown building behind her. It had boarded up windows - save for the main one that had its shades let down - and a large sign reading ' _Mudrey's Food and Drugs - Littlest cozy shop this side of the fence_ ' with a small wooden RX label dangling dangerously from a chain under it.

'There's no way...' His mind forced him to mouth.

Saying that was a food and drug store was one thing, but one look at the vixen told him otherwise. He really had to think about what kind of food this store had as she was so skinny. A tiny thought told him that the food may just be more drugs; a thought that was interrupted by the small RX sign snapping away from its parenting label and plummeting to the ground.

The vixen looked on with him but smiled back in an ' _Ignore that, it didn't happen_ ' kind of way.

His mind itself was in shock. It urged him to run. 'No. No! NO! Don't take anything she's offering!' It screamed.

The looks she gave him, the burning stare in her eyes, flashing and clicking her teeth the way she did; all with a sultry air about her. Inwardly, he began to back off; but for whatever reason, he couldn't move.

His body disconnected from even the slightest signal from his brain. It told him to stay. 'Yes. Yes! YES! You need those pills!' It informed.

He - in fact - could use the pills... they were from a... pharmacy? Enough of one anyways. Besides, she seemed... he wasn't going to say friendly, but certainly not evil maybe. He also wasn't saying that she had a lab somewhere.

She tilted her head to whisper into his ear, "How about you come inside," He found her grip on the sleeve of his coat tighten. "I've got some... great deals for you."

One more look at the shop and he knew, he... knew that he'd end up on the missing mammal's list (hopefully) by the next day. Then - maybe if there was anything left of him - he'd be in the obituaries in the following months with at least some honorable mention.

At least a 'He was a dumb fox' would be nice.

As he went to thank - and run away from - her a loud "-Get away from him." suddenly caught their attention.

He turned to his right across the street to see the ram menacingly walking towards them with his hoof pointed specifically at her.

"You weren't supposed to mess with pester my customers Mud under ANY circumstance!" He shouted, causing the vixen to shiver and slink away a little. He noticed immediately and eyed her and him equally.

"Tell it to the Cops!" She screamed back, pointing solely at Nick who flinched under her words.

Feeling a bit out of place, Nick nervously inched towards the crosswalk. Not before hearing a shouting debate between the two with yelling slurs and other colourful language at each other.

"You're a monster!" The ram shouted.

"I'ma break your horns!" The vixen retaliated.

As Nick slunk away, the two departed with the ram huffing back and walking to the store casually and the vixen literally hissing back and running to her place.

Without wanting to wait to see if anyone would continue the shouting match, Nick crossed the street without delay. Panting as he reached the other side in moments, he turned back to see the end result of the battle. The ram's store had very little activity from what he could see, but the vixen had hidden herself behind the blinds and eyed the area carefully. Catching his sight, she winked and smiled at him before he watched a sole wolf near the store nervously. She must have caught notice as he watched her lick her chops and lower the blinds. Before he could raise his brow at her behavior, he saw the vixen literally grab the wolf and drag him inside the store with a yelp.

He knew he wouldn't see him again. Probably. He'd get a section in the newspaper. Then again, what happens on Pack Street, is never spoken.

Taking the moment to continue down Fence Street, Nick felt the pain flare up in his leg again. He stopped to take the pills from his pocket, failing to remember which one he had gotten from who. They both smelled the same and looked the same, so with that being said, he popped them open one by one and emptied them into his paw. He couldn't believe what he saw.

He shook his head in frustration "Great! Just my luck." For in his paw were two pills: one red, and the other blue.

In his contemplation he looked at the labels reading, 'Warning may cause-" Only to stop right there. They were about the same - and free to boot - so they'd both do the same thing, right?

He couldn't help but stare at them both momentarily.

Those colours: Red and Blue!

Every time he saw them, they made him more and more... less.

Red: ' _You'll get another...' A voice- Her voice, called out. 'Stay with me-_ '

Blue: They shook in his hand. ' _I-i'm awful sorry 'bout that-_ '

Red: He sighed ' _You shouldn't have tried to chase-'_

Blue: _'Nick... it's over. There's nothing we can do-'_

He tightened his grip on them and looked ahead. A fire burned in his eyes. He wasn't going to try and figure out which pill did what.

If your name is in fact, Nicholas Piberius Wilde - not that it applies to many - then you are absolutely adventurous and are definitely going to take both pills despite what the warning labels are clearly telling you.

The beginnings of a smile crept on him. 'Besides, Red and Blue make Green.' He affirmed to himself. 'Didn't they?'

To him, it did; and sure enough, he downed them both. It was free medicine after all. Once he was done, he hobbled down Fence Street once more.

* * *

Hello there, you've reached the end notes! I hope you're all enjoying this story. I wonder how many will get the interactions between the ram and vixen? There's a lot going on here, please review if you have time to catch something XD

Only two chapters to go (Maybe three if you want a more indepth and detailed explaination.)

More stuff is coming up and I'm working on a lot. Stay tuned.

And I hope you get a chance to read this and the other stories at your leisure. All can be found here as well:

fanfiction:  
~dancinglunarwolves

deviantart:  
dancinglunarwolves

archiveofourown:  
users/DancingLunarWolves/works

If you liked this story and have time please post a review, and if you would like to keep up with the story please fav or follow. Questions, comments, concerns, feel free to message me about anything... More to come soon. If you'd like updates, please check the profile page and or message me.

Till Next Time

-DLW


	4. Depression

Hey all, DLW here. And we're back with a take on the five stages of grief. More info at the bottom. Thank you to all my readers follows, fav's and reviews and for your feed back it makes writing all the more fun. Disclaimer: Zootopia and its characters are copyright Disney. (I own none of the characters in the story aside from the O/C's.).

Also:

TortillasOrBust: Close, maybe. The pill reference is there, but there's so much more to it than just that. That being said, the title says... something, but the description says it's not what it seems XD

* * *

Depression

* * *

Everything was... bland? Morbid? Unnecessary? From the state of where he was to the simplest detail of who he was, it meant nothing anymore. He would have scratched his head in confusion as to the where and how, but could not find the strength to do so. For the life of him, it just wasn't there.

_(If your name is Nicholas Piberius Wilde - not that it means much to you now, or that you can even really remember - then you are currently experiencing a very bad time.)_

How did he even get here? Truly... he didn't have the foggiest of clues. It was all a blur of how the sky suddenly went dark, how he was on the ground. Where were his clothes - as he felt nothing pressing against his fur - he knew he wore them moments ago.

_(Should you have read the labels, then you would have noticed the clear warnings and side effects of both which include, but are not limited to:)_

It made no sense that - despite it being a small room - he was somehow moving yet still at the same time. Furthermore, the presence of other mammals near him was disturbing. It wasn't that their company wasn't welcome, but the fact that they were lifeless as he was somehow made things worse.

_Nausea_

_Vomiting_

_Headaches_

They didn't seem to move - aside from the room jostling now and then - a lion, a tiger, a bear and some sort of wolf. Familiar only to the basest of his memories, but still faint as to not be there with him entirely. He didn't care to try to speak to them, his misery was enough.

_Delusions_

_Hallucinations_

_Wandering_

Nicholas Wilde lay still amidst the sullen emptiness - despite the presence of others - of what seemed to be a cave of sorts. Maybe it was, maybe it wasn't, but he didn't really care to notice. For everything in his life seemed to be down at the moment.

_Loss of Appetite_

_Diarrhea_

_Blood-loss_

His sense of smell: dull and stagnant. His vision: blurred, barely seeing the others there even with good night-vision. His hearing: not even able to comprehend what he was saying, or the others there if they said anything at all. Even his sense of taste had been downgraded as everything he had had no flavor, no definable texture... no life.

_Concussions_

_Migraines_

_Moodiness_

The popcorn he had - wherever he had gotten it from, he couldn't remember - tasted terrible. It was somewhere between unsalted chewy cardboard and crunchy - albeit soft and tasting like a yoga mat smells like - inconsistent blobs of matter. It was the worst, well, at least second worst thing he ever ate.

_Fever_

_Delusions of Grandeur_

_Kleptomania_

It was a good thing that he had that slice of pizza still stuck to his neck. Or... was it pizza? He remembered a box, a slice, and what seemed to be cheese. So to him, it sounded like the telltale first signs of stylized Itailian goodness. Shame it went cold, though. Luckily - more or less - he had a cold drink in his hand to help wash down what may have been left of the less than savory meal.

_Spontaneous Hunger_

_Schizophrenia_

_Lysdexia_

Unable to even smirk at the simple joy, he brought the _'whatever it was at the time'_ drink to his awaiting muzzle; only to have it knocked away, taunting him and his thirst again.

Upset at the turn of events, he looked up out of the corner of his eye to see who or what could have done so upset him so. Even when he did see who or what the thing was, he couldn't even bring himself to shout angrily.

_Convoluted Metaphors_

_Compulsory Migration_

_Temporary to Permanent Blindness_

A green canid hovered above him, staring down. Its eyes - as dark as the cave around them - stared blankly at him. Upon seeing the thing up close, its sharp teeth and elongated snout snapped open before shouting at him, " **We're almost at your stop**!" Its voice echoed across the cavern, its sound was that of a rolling storm.

As quickly as it had appeared, it disappeared behind a set of rocks that emptied into nothingness moments later. He was alone again, even with the others. He was too tired to sigh, too awake to sleep, and the feeling in his leg bothered him. At least, though, he could feel. Even if what he felt was loneliness, emptiness, and most certainly pain.

_Hair Loss_

_Loss or Increase of Sense of Smell_

_Deafness_

He tried to close his eyes, memory a haze of fragments and fractures. It wasn't until he heard what he could only call a small explosion that he even noticed the others talking.

It was the Lion that spoke first, "Congratulations," he said in a chipper tone. "You've made it this far in our tasting and if you'd sign right here, we'd be more than happy to deliver the rest of-" all he seemed to be doing was advertising something that Nick was too upset with trying to buy.

Though something was familiar about the way he spoke. It was as if the voice itself had attached itself to him, somewhere in his mind. Then again, there was something about his posture that said 'sale'.

He quivered at the thought.

His paw found the slightest strength to grip at his muzzle.

The Tiger was next to speak. "He was a beast - a _savage_ animal, it's true, but nonetheless so terrible an animal that he can be only characterized as... _carnivorous_." The voice of the mammal was clearly feminine but was just spewing nonsense that he didn't care to try and hear.

Again, the voice seemed familiar. What was that it said about a carnivore?

His leg throbbed with pain.

"You shouldn't worry too much, kiddo." The bear spoke on his own accord, leaving Nick to crane his head toward him to hear this untold wisdom. "Live the good life 'an all," while not very insightful, it was still a start. "I don't sleep long, just need a nap." With that, the bear fell asleep, snoring loudly without a care.

Sleep? How could he sleep? Didn't he know what was going on?

Knowing full well that the wolf was about to speak, Nick looked towards it. For whatever reason before, he didn't see that it had two heads.

"10-4 dispatch, we've got 'em," One of the heads said, holding his paw to his muzzle as if they were relaying a message. He looked at Nick with a scowl forming, "Sorry, Wilde."

A breath in him hiked.

The second wolf's head turned to him, "That looks... bad." A sincere voice, broken only by the sound of city life.

_Potential Super Powers_

_Belief that you have Super Powers_

_Involuntary Limb Movement_

It was odd how the conversation sounded, a memory was forming again. They were dressed in blue.

Specs of colour flooded his field of view: red, green, purple, blue... blue... blue... Grey...

The colour of the cave. The colour of a name. The colour that started it all, ended it all.

His paw clenched in on itself "Grey," his voice echoed throughout the cavern, the others looked on "Grey... _Gideon_ _Grey_..."

A pain shot through his leg, his world collapsing from the memory; more and more bits and pieces of that fateful day flashed before him: The rabbit. The shop. The fox... Shouting. Shouting! The chase. The pain. Red below him. Blue before him. Deep breaths fading... The crowd. The stares. Their look of shock. It was all his fault. It was all his fault. Their fault! His own fault!

His paw gripped at his chest. There was nothing he could do now, nothing he could say to try again. The _greatest_ thing he had in his life, gone. Those three little words he couldn't say had haunted him.

_Someone Calling the Police_

_The Police Arresting You_

_Heart Failure_

Even as he thought this. He saw her face. Judy's face. Whatever words he had failed to force his lips to sound them.

_'Please. Stay with me-'_

He reached out, he didn't want to leave, but he couldn't stay.

_'You'll be fine-'_

How could she say that? Did she not look at him? He was a wreck... and she-

_'You'll get another-'_

No... there wasn't another. There would never be another. His life demanded that there could be only one so perfect. Never again would he-

A sudden sharp jolt forced his train of thought to stop altogether. He rolled around slightly from his - loss than comfortable - position on the cave floor. Annoyed as to what disturbed him, he looked around to see the others huddled together and staring blankly at him. Loud footsteps resounded moments later.

He craned his head to see the green canid once more. It loomed over him, somehow more menacing than before. " **It's time to go, Nick.** " It beckoned.

'Go where?' He thought. 'There's nothing to go back to.'

_Or Death_

Surely there was nothing to go to. There was nothing out there, only what was here, only with those there with him; even though they didn't speak to each other. This was home to him now.

Before he could protest, he felt a sudden heaviness in his chest. He didn't know whether it was fear that gripped him or the monstrous predator that hauled him away. Still, despite trying and failing to reason with himself, he was moving once more. The canid dragged him away from the others, forcing them slowly out of sight. He could still hear them, though.

"How would you like to earn fifty dollars... cash?" The voice of the lion sounded out.

He saw a bright light, the cave disappearing before him. There was something outside of that small world he wandered into.

"It was the worst hurt he had ever know."

A sharp turn of his body, the light faded. Yet he was still moving. The canid still taking him to his destination. His stop.

"You should rest at ease."

He felt himself being carried by his arms. The voice of his escort faded into obscurity.

"Take care of yourself, Nick."

A sudden drop. The world began to spin. Vivid sights of things he had been familiar with flitted into existence only to disappear in an instant.

"We're gonna miss you, buddy."

It all went black. He could hear himself breathe. Footsteps racing towards him. "NICK!" His name being shouted angrily or so it seemed.

_If experiencing any of these symptoms, seek medical help immediately_

Though gravity employed him back to his form, he didn't feel anything. In fact, he felt like he was floating. He was no longer in the cave, but something was... different. A weight pressed down on him once more, far less heavy.

The voice of concern had left, he was alone he thought.

* _Ring_ *

His ear perked up.

* _Ring_ *

Somewhere just above him - from what his lessened sense was telling him - he heard a tone.

* _Ring_ *

He recognized it anywhere, and for the first time since he could remember, he smiled. "Carrots..."

_Should not be taken with -_

* * *

Hello there, you've reached the end notes! I hope you're all enjoying this story. Honestly, to the one person that gets what this story even may be remotely about and what happened... Kudos to you... Even when writing this I confused myself...

Only one chapter to go with an epilogue to explain myself (and maybe a prequel backstory?) But this all ties into something else I'm working on.

More stuff is coming up and I'm working on a lot. Stay tuned.

And I hope you get a chance to read this and the other stories at your leisure. All can be found here as well:

fanfiction:  
~dancinglunarwolves

deviantart:  
dancinglunarwolves

archiveofourown:  
users/DancingLunarWolves/works

If you liked this story and have time please post a review, and if you would like to keep up with the story please fav or follow. Questions, comments, concerns, feel free to message me about anything... More to come soon. If you'd like updates, please check the profile page and or message me.

Till Next Time

-DLW


	5. Acceptance

Hey all, DLW here. And we're finishing this take on the five stages of grief. I wonder who made this connection from the title? Or who'll face palm from the truth? More info at the bottom. Thank you to all my readers follows, fav's and reviews and for your feed back it makes writing all the more fun. Disclaimer: Zootopia and its characters are copyright Disney. (I own none of the characters in the story aside from the O/C's.).

Review responses:

TortillasOrBust: Thanks for the reviews, and you weren't... far off? But the ending is very well shocking!

Sergeant Sargent II: Welcome back and it is absolutely a trip. The colours are very signifigant, and that was a good guess, but it's more so to do with eye/fur colours, and what each colour represents. But blue... well, everything/most things, are metaphors, here. (probably?)

* * *

Acceptance

* * *

He had been there for a while now, blankly staring at the leaking pipes running crisscross from wall to wall and jutting from his ceiling. Another sigh escaped him as he thought - silently waiting and clicking his claw against the hardwood of his makeshift bed made of a chest of drawers - about the times he had and how his life truly was.

He had a small floral patterned suitcase packed next to him, he'd be leaving soon and couldn't for the life of him fathom leaving; though he couldn't exactly stay. Even his own home seemed to be kicking him out for now.

Somehow, however, he was back home - _his_ home, the basement of the building in which he lived - and the decor said so much about his life in general. Grey plastered and grease stained walls welcomed him more so like a prison than an actual abode, but still it was his home. The hardwood floor creaked and was partially swollen from the numerous droplets of water that assaulted it day and night. He was thankful that it hadn't collapsed ( _yet_ ) and he somehow managed to have only non-sewage pipes running through the ceiling. Even odder still, despite the constant leaks, the only area that never received even the slightest droplet of water was his small bathroom across the way.

The few clothes he had hanging up on one of the pipes was airing out after being assaulted by a new puddle (that he'd have to fix later, maybe) that appeared suddenly. Though he had a pile of clothes sitting in the corner of his room and dozens of buckets just incase, he wondered constantly why he had to pay for water as a utility still; it should be free given his circumstances.

At least - for the most part - the small sofa he had in the middle of the room stayed dry as he kept a tarp over it and buckets on it. He never knew when he'd keep company, and wet cushions were _never_ a good sign.

He sighed again, leaning his head back into the sole pillow he had and cupping his phone into his paw with his free arm dangling over the side of the dresser drawer. For a long while, he had glanced at the pictures - selfies and a video or two - that he had taken just before he had received his crutches; which, every now and again, he looked down to see just beyond his gauze-wrapped leg.

The pain had subsided significantly, but the memories lingered. He felt his phone vibrate again, yet another message to him probably; he received dozens already that day.

Reading the time set at 3:32, he unlocked his phone again to see that there was _indeed_ another set of messages. This one he recognized immediately as one of the canids he worked with, Wolfovitz to be exact.

Message received

_Get well soon bud, we miss you already_

_Wolford said stop running around shirtless and crazy_

A smirk crawled onto his muzzle unaware. The wolf was crazy - they both kind of were - but the question arose in his mind as to where the second part came from.

No sooner did he smile that he heard a sharp rapping at his door. He knew what would be happening in moments. His time had finally come, there was no escape. In the seconds before he heard, "Nicholas Wilde!" being shouted as he could swear that the door would collapse from the furious assault of paws hitting it, he quickly opened the camera of his phone to view the selfies one last time. If he was going down, then he'd certainly get his point across.

The moment he did, he heard the door unlock and - given the circumstance - he swung his free arm across his eyes to shield himself from the soon to be assault; his other clutching dearly to the phone that hovered over the floor.

The door was practically kicked in as he heard heavy grunts and footsteps as loud as a thundering army pace heavily towards him. He swallowed the lump in his throat as he knew he was about to receive his just reward for his behavior. Nary a voice came until they were inches away from his faux slumber. The rapid tapping of a foot was all he hear next.

He heard the telltale sound of paws being clasped together. "Do you have _any_ idea of how worried I was that you just disappeared?"

He knew - in part, or as much as he could but would never admit - but he refused to answer; choosing instead to raise his paw a little, cellphone quivering.

A momentary silence, save for the foot tapping that grew in pace and volume. "I told you to stay at my apartment until we left! I don't want to see my partner limping everywhere for no reason. _Besides_ , you don't even have a bed here."

He flicked his tail and leaned back into his pillow. This was his space, and this... thing, _was_ his bed. Even if it wasn't... _truly_ , a bed.

His ear tilted towards the voice, seemingly it dissipated before it grew quieter, "Is that what you were worried about?" Though it sounded more concerned, he shook his head. He couldn't say yes. "I told you, I was fine sleeping on the floor, Nick." If there was anything that she was good at, it was somehow reading him. A feat that many have tried and most had failed at. "That's why I have a sleeping bag. I've been camping before, _you_ haven't."

At the mention of this, he lifted his paw away from his eyes to hold up two fingers before shielding himself again. He wouldn't let her tell him he had never been camping before.

That unspoken body language netted him a sigh. "Do you know how many times I've called you?"

Actually... he did? He looked before but knew that this was coming. So instead of being chewed out over the phone, he decided to face his fate... kind of. When you refuse to see what's coming by blinding yourself, is it still facing what's in front of you?

She continued, not even taking a breath in-between. "Not to mention the fact that Finnick called me about you?"

'TRAITOR!'

She must have seen his ear twitch as her tone became saturated with sass. "Yeah, he told me all about how he found you - HALF NAKED - and wandering around Downtown."

He did not! He was wearing clothes... now.

He heard a chuckle from her. "At least you don't have that _green and gaudy_ Pawaiian shirt anymore."

Before she could get another word in edgewise, he skillfully reached under his pillow without uncovering his eyes to pull out the beginnings of - not one - but two equally _green and gaudy_ Pawaiian _shirts_.

The chuckling died before he heard a grunt of astonishment.

"You know we _do_ send patrols out from the precinct every day," She stated as it were simple fact that he couldn't quite grasp, while she grew in volume. "It's lucky that he and a few officers knew you and that he was there to vouch for you and drag you back. He even gave you some of his pizza he was holding onto."

He wondered why he tasted Itailian when he got back. Well that, and why he had cheese and pizza crust stuck to his ear? Though that left the question, what else did he-

As if predicting what he would say, she listed further, "You owe him a new bean bag chair, by the way." Huh? "He couldn't stop you from eating it."

His mouth went dry. No wonder the popcorn tasted terrible. Then again...

A shift in tone, far more curious and concerned than before, "And almost drank antifreeze?"

His leg involuntarily pulsed. It wasn't the first time that happened. Hopefully the last, though. Good thing Fin was there to stop him again.

A long silence dawned upon them. He swayed his tail and flicked his ear. He kept his finger on his phone and shuddered. As he spoke not a word, he knew she'd ask-

"Nick?"

It was now that he could tell her. He had known from the beginning that this moment would come to pass. He pressed his ears back in anticipation.

"What's wrong?"

Her voice was more subtle now. He raised his paw, phone at the ready.

"Nick?"

It was then that he heard her take a step forward. She was hovering over him now. It was time.

In one swift motion, he pressed his phone against her nose softly, feeling her back up in shock. He repeated this motion, bopping her until he felt his wrist being seized by a soft set of bunny paws.

"Stop it!" She shouted, giggling lightly.

Had this been anyone else, they would have surely torn the fox apart, but since the day they understood each other, it was constant back and forth games with each other; and this time, sympathy was in his court.

As he tried again to tap his phone against her, he felt the device being snatched away and he whined at the action. Hopefully, he thought, she'd see exactly what he-

A gasp from the rabbit was easily heard. He had to force himself from grinning. This was his only chance.

He kept his ear turned to her for any indication that she got the message; and, true to his guess, he heard the foot tapping resume.

"Y-you can't be serious?" She went on, her voice hiked. "This is the reason you've been moping since yesterday?"

Another faked whimper and a nod of his head. He could feel her teeth clench together, but he dared not look at her yet.

As sweetly as she could muster, the rabbit listed out his various mishaps: "So, it wasn't the fact that you were _inches_ away from losing your leg because you accidentally cut it open, or that you _almost_ got hit by a car in an intersection afterward?" She paused, feeling the air brush against his leg while he shook his head at both. "Or from when Wolford and Wolfovitz came by to help and you had to get your leg stitched back up?" Again, he shook his head, frustration clear in her tone. "And certainly not almost being sent away with the most _ridiculous_ purple heart in the ZPD's history, but instead getting a few days sick leave?"

He tried to reach for the phone, but only ended up grabbing air. The bunny caught what he was trying to do and rushed to his muzzle, he fought futilely to keep his eyes from seeing the dim light of his apartment. He couldn't stop her, she would pry his eyes open to force him to see her. He complied, however, to see a furious glare set in.

"All that!" Judy near screamed into his ear, he cringed either way. "And you're mourning the loss of a slice of pie?"

He gave off a cheesy smile and nodded. "It was _Blueberry_ Pie, Carrots..." Nick admitted with all the respect of a lame animal. "I never got to say how good it was."

His excuse was met with a Judy wiping her paw down her face in agony as she looked at his phone again. For on his screen were dozens of selfies he took of them sitting at an outside table on Grass Street.

She knew the place well as it was Gideon's new shop and he had begged and badgered them to go. Only, in each of the pictures, there was the fresh slice of pie he was served that she said would be a ' _life changing experience_ ' as soon as he ate it. He never did get the chance, though. She told him not to chase that crook while trying to scarf down a pastry, utensils and all.

Her ears lowered in untold frustration, she felt a migraine beginning. "I nearly watch you die... and you're moping over-" Judy had to rub her temples before exacting rationality. "I told you we'd get you another one."

The renard smiled and rebutted, "But we didn't go back..."

Stating the fact, he heard Judy angrily huff and watched her throw her paws up in the air. "You know what? You win."

He raised a brow at this. Nick knew, he absolutely knew that Judy wasn't one to quit. In every little thing she did, she went past the point of exhaustion. Even when their cruiser broke down once, her presence demanded that their suspect could not get away... He had never been so exhausted from chasing down a deer in his life, and the deer could have never guessed that the doe would be his downfall.

A mentally/emotionally exhausted Judy shook her head and flopped her ears around. "I said you couldn't possibly be more or a drama queen, but I was wrong. So congratulations on being an ' _actual child_ ' along with Wolfovitz now. You two are both the ZPD's biggest kits."

She walked towards the door, motioning for him to follow. "Come on. We have a train to catch, I'll help you finish packing. You're not taking any one of those shirts with you." She pointed at the two he had pulled out of the pillow he rested on. Joke's on her, he had them in bulk hidden all over the place, he'd find a way to sneak them aboard.

That was the bunny he knew. Never one to give up. Carefully, he swung himself over the edge of the drawer and looked at her. She was his partner, his closest friend (aside from Finnick who was a brother to him), and maybe something more one day. With her - he smiled - the possibilities were endless.

Her ears hiked up as she turned to face him again. "Oh, by the way," She said with glee, her eyes narrowed. "We're _not_ stoping by Gideon's bakery... on Grass street, just to get you another slice."

His demeanor dropped, he felt his leg throb with pain. _Surely_ \- as he hoped - the bunny would have some sympathy for the poor injured vulpine.

She waved her finger. "I've told you before, he has a bakery in the burrows." He rolled his eyes, sure he'd have to wait until they left the city. "Which is exactly where we're going with your sick leave."

He knew - deep down - that she just wanted him to meet her family (Injury or not, though the excuse was welcome). Not that he minded. So Nick did the only thing he could do: nod, and force down the sigh he had building up in his mind.

'As long as it was with her,' he knew 'it would be worth it.'

* * *

Hello there, you've reached the end notes! I hope you're all enjoyed this story. Okay, I'll be honest. Yes the story is about... what's written above, but the epilogue (coming soon) will explain why this happened this way and the reason behind the title. Even the almost loss of something/someone can be detrimental to a lot of 'what if's'. Once again, I'll explain more in the epilogue.

More stuff is coming up and I'm working on a lot. Stay tuned.

And I hope you get a chance to read this and the other stories at your leisure. All can be found here as well:

fanfiction:  
~dancinglunarwolves

deviantart:  
dancinglunarwolves

archiveofourown:  
users/DancingLunarWolves/works

If you liked this story and have time please post a review, and if you would like to keep up with the story please fav or follow. Questions, comments, concerns, feel free to message me about anything... More to come soon. If you'd like updates, please check the profile page and or message me.

Till Next Time

-DLW


	6. Epilogue

Hey all, DLW here. With the epilogue, reveals, revelations, and more. More info at the bottom. Thank you to all my readers follows, fav's and reviews and for your feedback it makes writing all the more fun. Disclaimer: Zootopia and its characters are copyright Disney. (I own none of the characters in the story aside from the O/C's.).

Review responses:

Gamer4COD: I'm glad you did XD

Sergeant Sargent II: I tried to make it so inconspicuous and ridiculous that the answer could only be found with Lionheart's dialogue with tasting and the row of shops in chapter 2. And I absolutely plan on making them more interesting in other stories.

J Shute Norway: HA! Thank you, I try!

TortillasOrBust: I know, I know... it's a story... about pie... I shall make it up later on (hopefully) with another story without convoluted meanings.

* * *

Epilogue

* * *

Okay, so... I know that it wasn't an expected end for "Five Slices of Grief", and some of you... may have been a little shocked by it, but it still stands that: yes that was the actual story, no it's not exactly over, and there's a lot for me to cover so let's dive in.

 **First** and foremost is the definition of grief and why I chose this title.

The "Five Slices" part comes due to the Kübler-Ross model of grief to where the person experiencing grief shows the five stages: Denial, Anger, Bargaining, Depression, and Acceptance.

So in that regard, Nick went through all of them.

While I hope to have gotten each of them down to a good point, I fell as though the chapter "Anger" could have been more expressive.

Then the "Grief" part, according to Webster's Dictionary, is defined as: 'deep and poignant distress caused by or as if by bereavement'.

While usually connected to loss of life, it can also be connected to something, IE: homes, _possessions_ , keepsakes, tragedies, etc.

Ergo what Nick lost.

 **Second** is the reason of why I wanted to write this.

It's kind of funny that the story started out as something absolutely different until I made the second draft. After that, it became this and more of a happy story.

I primarily wrote it due to me wanting to improve on my writing style for future projects as I felt as it was getting lacklustre and not on par with what I felt.

I wanted characters to be more expressive, to be more animated, for the story to have a good pace. If you've seen my other writings, I'm _absolutely_ an environment builder. I tend to go on tangents for paragraphs about just the area a character's in, but this time I wanted to try something different.

 **Thirdly** , why I chose to reveal the story as such.

Honestly, I couldn't think of a better way to just portray Nick expressing his life than about pie. Not the life of Pi, but his own characteristics.

I really thought, what would be a "Nick Wilde' thing to do? Then it hit me from the deleted scenes at Jumbeaux's to where he tried to oversell his 'Father and son' act. So then I thought, 'Well what if it was about a slice of _pie_?'.

And to be completely honest, I hadn't laughed so hard in a while from that.

The revelation being that Nick was chasing a crook while trying to eat a slice of pie and nearly killing himself from a fall would have been... well... probably the way he would want to go. Though he would have wanted to eat it beforehand. Also, I really see Nick being childish in all of his actions, even in the film he went off throwing a fit once he thought they were gonna get captured by wolves in the asylum.

 **Fourthly** , the detailed chapter analysis and easter-eggs.

Denial

We see Nick in what he claims to be his apartment, but it's actually _Judy's_. In the end chapter, she tells him, "I told you to stay at my apartment until we left!" she meant that she wanted him to stay there to heal.

Even in this chapter, Nick is actively denying that 'anything happened, everything was perfect' and that he was supported his whole life to make the decision to be a cop. While none of that was true, him being in Judy's shoebox apartment that was 'neither larger than life or smaller than his goals' was absolutely true. Still, though, I see him as cramped in that space.

The colours in the first chapter each have a different meaning to them. While I'm not going to elaborate too much on this - way too long to explain colour representation, will do in another story - they're all there to justify some expression or emotion. I will explain blue though as it usually means: stability, tranquillity, peace, etc. That being said, I can see why 'Dress Blues' mean something different for police. Though the blueberry pie was a missed opportunity for our poor fox.

I did find it funny, however, that Judy's apartment - including the red brick wall - has the same colour scheme of Nick.

Lastly for this chapter, I wanted to say that I think it had the most use of colour as Nick is _literally_ trying to paint a different world for himself while denying anything. This can be seen in the line 'a picturesque collage of pastels under one roof that could make any artists dream become a vision in an instant'.

Anger

Public transportation can immediately make someone angry, that's a fact of life. Added to this, however, is the uncourteous behaviour of the other mammals on the bus. We see that Nick 'earned that seat, and they all knew it' and he did. On public transportation, it's a general rule - or even a simple _courtesy_ \- that the sick, disabled, elderly, and expecting are a priority in the seats up front. Nick, however, was treated as a second class citizen and forced to wait near the bus's rear exit.

Also, I've seen this before where someone pretends to have a disability with the 'young goat sitting in the front with shades and a cane... and reading a newspaper'. If you need to go to great lengths to lie to people, then I'm absolutely sure you've just created anger.

And yes, sometimes I do see public transportation as a form of masochism. It's necessary - absolutely - but then again at times you'd rather walk.

On that note, the zebra sitting on the bus was supposed to be a panda, but since I had a wolverine as the driver, I thought it would be better as a predator/prey balance . The reason being is that a panda's eyes are actually small and it's just the large black spots on their faces that make them seem like they have larger eyes to make nick think they were constantly watching him. So I thought I'd do the same for the zebra instead, he may not have been watching at all.

Then there's the wolverine. I thought about it being a badger at one point, but wolverine stuck out as (more) vicious and undeterred by anything. It's like having a larger and more powerful badger with violent tendencies and stops for almost nothing.

Bargaining

This was by far my favourite chapter. I had to make up a street name ' _Fence Street_ ' just to be able to accomplish it.

Both Pack Street and Flock Street exist in Zootopia. If you look at the transit map, you can see them close together and above Grass Street in Savannah Central.

If you've been looking carefully, you'll see Nick wearing sunglasses or saying it's either day or night constantly. This is due to perception of time being altered when experiencing grief. It can happen day or night and at times you have no clear idea of 'when' it is. Not only that, but Nick wears his glasses to not allow anyone else to see what he's thinking while grieving; it's a way to shut others out.

Pack Street and Flock Street are opposite sides with Pack being on the left. I see this as the ' _bad_ ' side of the tracks to which Nick is trying to cross over on.

The sheep and vixen are representations of the 'shoulder angel and shoulder devil' respectively. They literally appear on the _right_ (the sheep) and _left_ (the vixen) of him and give him advice to come with them. They even look the part.

While just really an homage to that, neither is exactly as it seems. So, Nick tries to bargain with them with his glasses and appearance as a plea to his case.

The two are also a nod to the film "Little shop of Horrors". The sheep's name " _Seymore_ " is close to the character name "Seymour", and the vixen's name " _Mudrey_ " is close to the name "Audrey".

Their interactions and dialogue closely resemble some of the back and forth between the two as well.

The sheep's shop ' _Happy Happy Farmacy - Happiest Pharm on this side of the fence_ ' is a reference to the Happy Happy cult from "Earthbound" which was based off of the cult Aum Shinrikyo. So it's very likely that the reason that his customers 'never leave' is that they're part of the cult now. The mammal upstairs may just be their leader...

The vixen's shop ' _Mudrey's Food and Drugs - Littlest cozy shop this side of the fence_ ' is based on "Little Shop of Horrors".

She has bloodied gauze wrapped around her arm which may be her feeding a world dominating plant...

A bit of a hard one to figure out, but I thought it was funny. When Nick says, ("I'm guessing your name is Vix?" and the Mudrey replies, "Even if it was ,it's not the way you'd be spelling it." Her words were like a smooth and stinging mist.) is a play on the medicine brand Vicks (specifically VapoRub). Though she applies it wrong...

The sign falling from her shop was a reference from something somewhere, but for the life of me, I can't remember what.

Though it's actually ambiguous, the ram could be part of a cult, and the vixen could be a drug dealer. Then again, the roles could be switched.

When Nick's mind and body are at war, his mind was telling him no, but his body was telling him yes. Song reference...

If you take this sentence and apply emphasis on one word (italicise) then you get a different meaning each time: 'he wasn't saying that she had a lab somewhere'.

Nick taking the pills for free was more out of desperation than anything. Seriously, don't accept strange medicine from random people on the street. It causes... stuff.

'Besides, Red and Blue make Green. Didn't they?' No, they make purple...

Depression

His glasses are abandoned as time is at a standstill now. He's actually in Finnick's van.

The pills he took... well... I've listed off the side effects, and sometimes they can be worse than what you currently have. Though it gets more and more ridiculous later on. They also get more and more spaced out as it gets more depressing.

I tried to go with Plato's allegory of " _The Cave_ " at the beginning, but kind of abandoned it halfway as depression makes it kind of... I don't really know. Either I got lazy or couldn't connect the two properly.

The lion tiger and bear (oh my) are his co-workers along with the two-headed wolf.

The lion is the funniest one as it's a triple meaning. There's a lion listed to work for the ZPD as ' _Johnson_ '. His dialogue is edits of ' _Cave Johnson_ ' from the game "Portal 2" even down to his offering of money and testing/tasting. Cave Johnson's voice is that of ' _Leodore Lionhear_ t' in the film. For something absolutely funny go to youtube and see 'Mayor Lionheart as Cave Johnson', you'll never be the same. Thank you, JK Simmons.

The tiger is Fangmeyer (says so on the wiki and the game, also, gender is indistinguishable so I said female). I have her quoting (loosely) from the book " _Whitefang_ " (definitely gonna use some of those later).

The bear is an homage to "The Jungle Book's" Baloo.

The wolves are Wolford and Wolfovitz (another wolf that was said to be in the script and since Fangmeyer's the tiger I said make the white wolf that one).

The green canid is Finnick, but I can't remember why he's green (sick maybe). The explosion he heard was Finnick driving again.

Nick eats Finnick's beanbag chair (the popcorn) and tries to drink antifreeze the ' _whatever it was at the time_ ' due to the medicine's effects.

I also did not misspell Italian (Italy)... it's Itailian (Italiy)for the story...

I was going to put a greater-than or less-than sign in along with a colon or semi-colon to emphasise pie, but Fanfiction does _not_ like those things added...

Acceptance

Finally at Nick's apartment as shown in the early drawings we see how everything is. Which is why he doesn't actually have a bed.

He finally accepted his fate to be taken to Bunnyburrow and the loss of his pie.

I wanted to make Nick's interactions with Judy as that of genuine friends for later use.

I wrote in his bathroom not leaking due to a story for later on.

It could be said that he's accepted his time with Judy to be worth it.

 **Fifthly** , and lastly.

I wanted to thank all my readers. Every comment and follow alike.

It truly helps me write more often and improve on my style. Tough I'm still working out some flaws, I hope you've all enjoyed this experience.

Though I'm not sure how many of you I've caused to drop from the revelation.

It's been fun and I'll see you next story!

* * *

Hello there, you've reached the end notes! I hope you're all enjoyed this story. More stuff is coming up and I'm working on a lot. Stay tuned.

And I hope you get a chance to read this and the other stories at your leisure. All can be found here as well:

fanfiction:  
~dancinglunarwolves

deviantart:  
dancinglunarwolves

archiveofourown:  
users/DancingLunarWolves/works

If you liked this story and have time please post a review, and if you would like to keep up with the story please fav or follow. Questions, comments, concerns, feel free to message me about anything... More to come soon. If you'd like updates, please check the profile page and or message me.

Till Next Time

-DLW


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